


Never Late To The Party (If I'm Late To The Party With You)

by StuckInAFantasy6



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Birthday Party, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-07-19 05:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuckInAFantasy6/pseuds/StuckInAFantasy6
Summary: Macy discovers that the attic is the perfect hiding spot from her own birthday party. Until someone finds her.





	1. Party for Two

**Author's Note:**

>   
> I hope you enjoy :) x

Outside the attic, the music reverberated unapologetically throughout the manor. It filled every corner with the kind of tune that made even the shyest partygoer struggle to resist the urge to swing their hips and follow the flow of the lyrical seduction, but the closed door muted the effect. A muffled, alluring voice barely carried through the walls, but the thump of the beat echoed through above anything else and mirrored the pounding heart of the woman pacing the floor. 

She could feel the vibration pulse through her body from the heels of her shoes to the cavity of her chest and the inside of her skull. She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, then tipped back her head to take a big gulp of wine from the glass she held loosely between her fingers.

The dress she wore clung to her thighs and the curves of her hips in a way which she supposed was the purpose of a slinky party dress - to emphasis every inch of her body - and at the thought she couldn’t help but tug at it as the room seemed to grow warmer. She would concede that perhaps on another day she would have allowed herself a moment to feel sexy in the garment just for herself, even if that was only for a breath behind closed doors, but right now she just wasn’t feeling it. 

She had put it on because it had been a present from her sisters.  


* * *

She had been woken up early that morning by her sisters jumping on her to wake her up – well, Maggie had done most of the jumping – and giving her a cuddle. She had rubbed her eyes and wrapped her arms around them both to pull them down beside her as she snuggled back under her covers. She grumbled into her pillow for ten more minutes of sleep. Unfortunately for her, they had other plans. 

Barely given time to adjust to being awake, she was pulled from her bed and shuttled downstairs to the kitchen.

Harry had made a special breakfast with the help of her sisters. A stack of pancakes piled high with sprinkles and topped with birthday candles, croissants with jam and cream, a bowl of watermelon cut into stars and crescent moons, dishes of blueberries and strawberries, strips of bacon and waffles. 

A banner was pinned to the wall exclaiming ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’, and there were balloons covering every inch of the ceiling, so much so that Macy couldn’t tell whether it had been done using magic or by labour. She adored it, regardless.

The decorations were completed by a string of family photos. 

The first was one of the three sisters in their pyjamas each holding a mug, with the letter ‘M’ on the front, full of hot chocolate. The next of Maggie sticking her tongue out and hanging off a laughing Macy’s shoulders, and another of Mel and Macy all dolled up and clinking cocktail glasses together and finally, at the end, one of Macy frozen in place pressing a kiss into an awkwardly beaming Harry’s cheek.

Her heart had leapt at the sight, and a rush of love for each of them overwhelmed her. 

After devouring a copious amount of pancakes, enough fruit to feed an army and washing it down with huge gulps of coffee, it was declared present time.

Macy had always found such affairs awkward as she never knew exactly what she was supposed to do. If she didn’t smile enough, would they think she was ungrateful? But, if she smiled too much, would it seem forced? If she tore the wrapping paper, was that rude? But if she unfolded it carefully, that just left more time for them to study her reaction… 

But she had also been excited. It had been a while since she had anyone to celebrate her birthday with, and since anyone had been close enough to her to give her a present.

It had made her think back to her tenth birthday party. The one that her father had written to her mother about, the one that she had broken her own heart over years later wondering why her sisters couldn’t have been there.

They were here now. So, she tried not to overthink as she ripped the wrapping paper from the presents as if she were that ten-year-old child again. 

It was the last present, and she had admittedly been confused at the choice of gift at first – after all, they had already both given her a present each and Macy wasn’t exactly known for strutting around in party dresses – but she had kissed their cheeks anyway.

It wasn’t until she got home from work that evening to a chorus of “SURPRISE!” that Macy had been enlightened to the intention of the present. 

She had just hung up her coat and walked into the living room, ready for a relaxing evening in with her sisters.

Only instead of blankets and ice cream, she was met with crowds of people springing up from behind the sofa, from each corner of the room and surprisingly behind a lamp, which apparently somebody had decided was a sufficient hiding spot. 

Macy knew her mouth was hanging open at the time, but her brain hadn’t informed her jaw how gormless she must have looked.

She didn’t even think she knew this many people. In fact, she knew she didn’t have this many friends. Looking around the room, she surveyed a peculiar mix of people. 

Some of them she recognised immediately. Amongst them was a crowd of magical folk including Chloe, and Maggie’s favourite “goat man”, also a handful of Maggie’s Kappa pals, and a couple of lost looking regulars at The Haunt who must have been Mel’s guests. Others she guessed must have been friends of friends.

She wondered how this was even going to work – the intermingling of magical and non-magical beings was sure to be difficult, although she was sure the large amount of alcohol already littering every table top would help- but before she had time to ask she was bombarded with hugs. 

After a couple of awkward greetings, Mel had taken pity on her and whisked her away.

Mel smiled apologetically at her outside the bathroom as she handed her the dress. 

“Sorry to spring this on you, Mace, we just thought after everything that’s happened it’d be nice to have everyone together. Besides, we’ve missed out on enough of each other’s lives, right? We thought maybe a birthday party was a good place to start getting back to normal.”

“Right,” Macy nodded, “yeah, that makes sense.” 

She understood the need for more normalcy after everything that had happened in what felt like a whirlwind, so she offered her sister a small smile. She hoped that maybe amongst a brief period of stability, she and Mel could find some common ground.

Mel nodded towards the dress, “Maggie insists.” 

“Well then,” Macy accepted, and stepped inside the bathroom to change. 

* * *

  
It had become too hard to breathe down there. It had been terribly sweet of her sisters to organise this, but she would have preferred to curl up with her family and welcome the next decade of her life.  


After not too long, the social grin she plastered to her face was suffocating and the small talk had become overwhelming, so she avoided it by taking generous sips of whatever was in her hand at that moment.

Eventually, she excused herself under the pretence of going to the bathroom and had snuck off to the attic. She thanked her lucky stars that nobody had decided that the attic was the hot make out spot for the night, so she could get some alone time. 

She had been pacing from wall-to-wall for approximately ten minutes when she heard a knocking at the door, followed by the squeak of the hinges as it was pushed opened. 

She supressed the groan that she felt building up in her throat. Since the incident with the Source, her sisters had been reluctant to leave her by herself for too long for fear of her getting caught up in her own head again and those doubts creeping back in. But she had discovered the distinction between loneliness and being alone.

Loneliness is a feeling, tied to abandonment and rejection, a deep kind of isolation that was unrelenting regardless of whether you stood in a room full of people or in your own company. It stretches to every part of your being; it makes itself at home in the corners of your brain like a childhood monster, hiding just out of sight, but clawing at the edges of your vision ready to consume you the minute the lights go out. 

Being alone often went hand-in-hand with loneliness, as was the case of her childhood. At school she would often find herself alone. She had few friends, and her interests always seemed to lie outside of theirs; she was nowhere near as interested in spying on boys or sneaking contraband into her dorm as her peers, and she was never particularly adept at faking it.

But, the two didn’t always co-exist. Lonely is attached to a person, not an environment. A state of mind compared to a physical state. 

Of course, being alone for much too long would breed loneliness, and Macy knew she was a prime example, but it didn’t mean that she hadn’t grown to enjoy some aspects of it.

Right now, Macy just wanted to be left alone.

She spun on her heel and saw her whitelighter politely step into the room. 

“I thought I’d find you up here,” he greeted her.

“That predictable, huh?” 

“Ah, ‘predictable’ isn’t a word I’d use to describe you, Doctor Vaughn.”

“I don’t know whether it’s the wine or the fact that you just called me ‘Doctor’, but I can’t decide whether I should be insulted by that” 

“I can assure you I didn’t mean any offence” he chuckled.

“Come sit then, Harry” 

“I’m sorry?”

She ducked to the floor. Although her mind was slightly clouded with the alcohol she had chugged as a buffer, she was aware that she should probably avoid flashing Harry, so she pulled at her dress as she sunk to the ground and crossed one leg over the other. 

Her back was against a bookshelf which was holding several books which were haphazardly balancing against the shelves in various conditions. Suddenly a little drowsy, she tipped her head back and rolled her eyes up. As she caught sight of her mother’s eccentric reading material, she absentmindedly thought that she could probably do a better job of organising the dusty old things. Not that she would. There was too much of her mother in it.

“How much have you had to drink anyway?” Harry asked, settling down next to her. 

“Not that much,” she replied airily.

“Maybe you should get some rest, Macy.” 

“Rest?” Macy smirked into her wine glass and then took another gulp, as Harry watched on.

He glanced at her sideways. He brought his knees up, so he could rest his elbows on them and clasp his hands together to stop himself from reaching out; he wanted to take the drink from her, but also didn’t quite feel comfortable making that decision for her. 

“It’s my birthday, silly,” she grinned.

Harry knew Macy well enough to know that the smile wasn’t quite real. A real smile on Macy Vaughn lit up her whole face. Her dark eyes came alive with it whether they were gentle and kind, or excited and amused, a flutter of the eyebrows nearly always accompanied it and the way her beautiful features morphed into light made Harry believe that she was meant to have a permanent smile on her face. 

But, this one, it was too stiff, and her eyes were too sad for it to be real. 

“And yet you’re up here,” he ventured gently, “instead of downstairs with your sisters and your guests.”

“My guests?” Macy shook her head, “Harry, I doubt more than ten of those people could pick me out of a line-up”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he laid a comforting hand on her arm. 

The glass in her hand shook despite the touch being soft. Macy looked into Harry’s eyes not quite sure what she was searching for. He stared back, and Macy felt butterflies in her stomach. She told herself it was the alcohol. 

Harry slowly guided her hand to put the glass down on the attic floor between them. She didn’t resist, and he let her be in control, but she simply sighed as she heard it clink against the floor and let go. 

“I’d bet at least twenty,” he whispered, only half-joking. 

She laughed quietly, a glimpse of her authentic smile shining through.

“How much?”

“Tell you what, new idea. If you go and get some rest, I’ll tell your sisters you aren’t feeling well and I’ll bring you some tea in bed.”

“Now that’s just bribery.”

“Do we have a deal?”

Macy looked down. His presence always had a way of calming her down, and her drowsy eyes tempted her to curl up and go to sleep. She shook her head ever so slightly.

“Harry?” she avoided the question.

“Mmm?” 

“Why am I here?”

Her eyes were wide and glossy.

“What do you mean? Tonight’s your party.”

“No, I mean, what am I doing _here_?” 

She gestured around vaguely, her hand waving to encompass more than just the attic. He couldn’t help but notice how she used her right hand, her left still lightly touching his own. 

“This is your home, Macy,” he told her gently. 

“I know, I do, it’s just…my sisters, they’re trying so hard to make me feel like I belong. I get it, but things are still…complicated. With Mel. And even Maggie. But you know what? I think I understand now.”

“Understand what?” he asked, quietly.

“What my dad was saying to my mum in those letters.”

Harry nodded for her to continue.

“He told her that every time he looked at me, he thought about how one day I’d find out the truth about my birth. I guess maybe that’s why he sent me off to boarding school. He didn’t want to have to keep looking.”

“Macy, you can’t-“

“Please, let me,” she pleaded.

He tipped his head again.

“It must have been hard to have to look at me like that. Not just knowing that I’d find out but knowing that _I_ was the reason he couldn’t be with the woman he loved. And I'm scared that maybe Mel feels the same way deep down, I know she's trying but maybe I just remind her of the bad times and, Harry, I can’t…I don’t want to be someone else’s reminder of what they’ve lost.”

Macy took a deep breath and continued.

“I know my dad loved me, but he loved her too. Marisol. And I was the only thing standing between them. Hell, he knew about Maggie, right? He must have. And he probably wanted to raise her too. But he couldn’t. Because he had me.”

“None of that is your fault,” Harry comforted, "your sisters love you."

“Do you think Maggie sees it that way? She told me she wished she could have known him, and I know how that feels. God, do I know how that feels.”

“She had a father. You didn’t cause her to miss out on that.”

“I know. But she deserved the truth. They could have been a family.”

“You are a family. You and your sisters.”

She chewed her lip.

“And you. You’re our family too, Harry.”

His eyes looked suspiciously watery as he smiled at her.

“Yes. We’re a family, Macy.”

She laced her fingers through his.

"I'm just getting used to this big, happy family thing, I guess," she told him. 

She paused for a moment before adding, "I know that you all love me."

His heart stuttered. There was something in the way she spoke that reminded him of his own words to her once, but they had agreed to forget what that had sparked between them. When he looked to her, her head was down and her hair was hiding her face. 

Maybe it was her soft, warm grip on him or how close they were sitting now, but he wanted to open up to her. Just not about that. Not yet.

“I don’t remember…anything really, about my son. But the one thing I do know is that when I found out about him all I wanted was to be with him,” he confessed.

Macy looked up at him and squeezed his hand, and he took a deep breath. 

“But I knew that getting too involved was dangerous. And never getting that chance was hard. One of the hardest things I’ve ever been through. But it’s what you do for the people you love. Maybe you’re right. Maybe your father wanted to be with Maggie the same way your mother wanted to be with you. But they did what they did to protect you both. I missed out on my son’s life, and there’s nothing I can do about that. But he’s safe and he’s happy and that’s all I could ever ask for.”

He had tried to make peace with the fact that he couldn't be in his son's life but he, too, was still learning. 

“You’re a good father, Harry, and a good friend,” she assured him. 

“I’m not so sure about that, but thank you.”

“I see the way you take care of my sisters. Especially Maggie. She really looks up to you. You do so much for us and maybe we don’t tell you enough, but we are grateful.”

“I’d do anything for you girls."

“I know.”

They were silent for a moment then. A comfortable kind of silence that came easily for them. Harry almost didn’t want to break it, but he had to ask.

“But, you, er, you said your sisters?”

“Hmm?”

“You said I take good care of your sisters.”

“You do.”

“But not you?”

“No, I didn’t say that. It’s just…different. Isn’t it?”

Their eyes locked and they could barely hear the music from downstairs anymore as they let themselves just exist in the other’s gaze. Neither of them wanted to look away. The warmth of their still intertwined fingers grounded them. Macy could have sworn she saw Harry turn his head to the left slightly and dip his head towards her and then- 

She hiccupped.

Instinctively, she brought a hand up to her throat. Her eyes were wide. 

“Oh. I think that was the wine,” Macy looked apologetic.

Harry started to laugh, not unkindly but with a fond sort of crinkle by his eyes. It started as a small chortle but soon grew into a hearty belly laugh. 

Macy swatted at him playfully and whined, “Harry!”

Though she couldn’t help but laugh along with him. Harry clutched his stomach and he tipped his head back and laughed, and Macy slapped one hand over her mouth as she giggled and tried to keep more hiccups at bay. It felt good just to laugh together, for two haunted people to share a moment of joy. Every time they made eye contact they laughed harder, until tears were streaming down both of their faces. 

By the time they had exhausted their laughter, Macy tucked her legs behind her and rested her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“You okay?” he smiled down at her. 

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his soft shirt.

“Perhaps we should go downstairs and join the party. Your sisters will be wondering where you’ve gotten to.” 

“Just five more minutes?”

“Whatever you need.” 

His reassurance was all that she needed. She wished things could always be this easy. Since she had read his mind after taking on The Source, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there could be something more between them. He had told her to pretend it never happened, but that seemed impossible with him so close. 

She looked up at him and found his eyes already on her.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” she whispered. 

She cupped his jaw and brought her mouth up to his. Her eyes fell closed and she brushed her lips against his. Macy felt his surprise in his hot breath against her kiss, but after a few moments she felt him relax and press more insistently into the kiss, returning her affections.

Slowly, she ran her hands up his chest exploring his firm build and her fingers restlessly found leverage by bunching up the crisp material. He moaned. His own hands travelled down to her waist and squeezed her hips, eliciting a throaty sound from Macy. He wanted her closer and it seemed that she could read his mind from the way she rose up and gently pushed back his shoulders. 

As Macy swung her leg over Harry’s lap, wanting nothing more than to straddle him and deepen the kiss, a loud clanging sound filled the room. The couple sprang apart, their kiss breaking abruptly as they startled.

Macy rolled off Harry and as she did, she felt something wet under her thighs. A glance down alerted her to the situation; the wine glass they had set down earlier was overturned between the pair, the dark liquid spilled over the floor, and now, over the bottom of Macy’s dress. 

“Damn it,” she cursed.

Harry stared at her, his lips still swollen from kisses and shock clear in his eyes. It all hit her at once. She had just kissed Harry. Harry had kissed her back. 

But he had told her to forget what she had heard before, what if he asked the same of her now? She couldn’t deal with that. She had meant it; she didn’t want to pretend anymore.

She couldn’t be here right now. 

“Macy, I-“

“I have to go,” Macy interrupted him, stumbling to her feet. 

She glanced back at Harry who was still leant back against the bookcase, not daring to move, and pulled at her now ruined dress. Later, she would wonder how to explain the stains to her sisters. And, later, she would berate herself for what she was about to do.

But for now, she did the only thing she could think to do. 

She ran.


	2. The World Can Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind comments on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one too!

Macy's delayed reaction to the blaring sound filling her bedroom, as she sluggishly opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, was appalling for a witch who was supposed to be on alert at all times. But her mind was foggy from only a couple hours of sleep and the dull ache pulsing through her head. It wasn’t just the alcohol that was making her head feel like it had been trampled by a flock (was flock the correct term? Macy was too sleepy to care right now) of satyrs. Her bedroom was lit up though the sun had barely risen, as she apparently hadn’t bothered to switch off the light before crashing into bed the night before, and the intrusive noise didn't help matters.  


Her alarm. The painful throb behind her eyes splintered and became sharp as she frowned, and she rolled over to turn off the alarm. She must have forgotten to turn it off, too caught up in the hectic mess of last night. As she twisted her body, she felt the sheets tangle around her bare legs and her body protested the movement with a lurch in her stomach. She vanquished the very evil alarm, and, still slightly disorientated, pushed herself up and glanced around the room; a white pool of material with dark ripples of red lay on the floor beside her bed. 

An unwelcome reminder of the ‘incident’ from the night before.

Macy was tempted to fall back into bed and pull a pillow over her head in a futile attempt to block out the images flitting through her mind triggered by seeing that dress. Unfortunately, it seemed she had drunk just enough to make her body resent her but not enough for her to forget anything that happened. Not to mention the fact that she had laid in bed for hours replaying it over and over in her head. 

Now, she climbed out of bed to kick the damn dress under the bed.

She couldn’t say she wholly regretted telling Harry how she felt, nor could she say she regretted kissing him. Kissing him was electric and exciting, but safe and familiar at the same time, like she could sink into him forever and never get bored. It felt like hearing your favourite song in a concert hall after years of playing it in your bedroom alone. 

She wished she could replay those few moments of bliss to herself without the rude interruption of reality. The way his kisses felt purposeful, like he was pouring all the unsaid things between them into them, but still gentle and he had touched her like she was something to be treasured.

What she did regret, however, was that she had no idea if that was what he was thinking at all. 

It felt real. She had felt something spark. But what if she was wrong? What if it was all in her head? She had read his mind months ago, so who’s to say that he hadn’t moved on from her? Maybe he didn’t want her anymore.

She didn’t regret kissing him, but she regretted the doubt that came with it. She was angry at herself for being stupid enough to initiate anything at all without knowing where they stood, but what was beyond stupid was that she never stuck around to find out. 

Perhaps Harry would write it off as her drinking too much, but Macy knew exactly was she was doing. Or perhaps he would just think she was the sad and lonely girl she had already proved herself to be. Maybe that was for the best.

* * *

Later that morning, Harry was having a more difficult time than usual trying not to burn breakfast. He mindlessly moved the eggs around in the pan, half listening to Mel and Maggie’s chatter behind him. He had considered not showing up for breakfast that day to give Macy some space, but he reasoned that it would only cause the Vera girls to become suspicious, which is the last thing he needed right now. He was thankful for Maggie’s ability to talk about almost anything and Mel’s lifelong acquired skill of keeping up with her, as he considered what he was going to do about their older sister. She hadn't come downstairs yet but it was only a matter of time before he would have to face her.

It had felt so natural to become so entangled with his eldest charge it almost scared him. The emotion and passion came so easily for them as if it were the missing piece of a puzzle he hadn’t known was incomplete and now that he knew it was too hard to forget. For a moment, everything seemed to fall into place and he was intoxicated by her taste, her touch, her smell. _Macy_. 

But the moment they parted, the way the desire in her eyes turned to regret made his heart ache. He wished he would’ve said something before she left, but what could he have said?

For months they had danced around each other, pretending that the feelings he had for her didn’t exist and there wasn’t some unspoken tension in the air whenever they were alone. She knew what he felt for her and she had kissed him. And then she ran away from it. From him. 

He had to accept that just because he had fallen for Macy, that didn’t mean she felt the same way. She was just caught up in the moment, and he was…there. He should have never hoped for anything more than friendship.

“Harry? Hey, earth to Harry?” Mel’s voice broke through his fog of thoughts. 

“Hmm?” he replied, absently.

“You okay, Har? We’ve been talking to you for a hot minute. Where’d you go?” Maggie asked. 

He turned around to face them, brandishing a spatula. In his stripy maroon apron to complete the look, he was quite the sight.

“I apologise, ladies. I suppose I’m just tired.” 

“Wild night?” Maggie winked, cheekily.

She had always been like a troublesome little sister to him, and he adored her immensely as such, but this morning he wished he would be spared her antics. 

“You could say that,” he sighed.

It was useless trying not to remember what had happened the night before. The words exchanged, the kisses, the look on Macy’s face as she fled the room all swirled around in his head, it was almost dizzying. 

“You sure you’re alright?” Mel asked, frowning at his forlorn expression.

He simply nodded. 

“Breakfast will be ready in two minutes,” he said, and turned his attention back to the food.

Mel and Maggie glanced at each other. Though Maggie firmly believed that ‘morning people’ were a myth, the whitelighter had always been chipper and energetic at this time, but he seemed distracted this morning, plagued by something or other that was now gluing his eyes to the bottom of a pan. 

Mel shrugged and made a mental note to question it later.

Maggie pulled out her phone and held it up for Mel to see. She started swiping through the most recent photos in her gallery and Mel glanced over her younger sister’s shoulder making sounds of approval or dissatisfaction at each photo through mouthfuls of coffee. 

“You know, Harry, Mum had boxes full of these old photos. Ones from when we were little,” Mel said, trying to catch his attention, “first steps and birthday parties and all that. There’s this absolutely adorable one of Maggie with her two front teeth knocked out from when she thought she could go down a slide on her stomach.”

A smirk grew on Mel’s face as she told the embarrassing little tale. 

“Hey, I think you mean, from when I was _pushed_ down the slide” Maggie corrected.

“Oh, here we go again,” Mel groaned. 

Maggie stuck out her tongue.

Harry didn’t reply but thought back to the family photos they had dug out yesterday for Macy’s party. He had been the one to choose the one of them together with her lips to his cheek and had hoped that perhaps she would adore it as much as he did. His heart ached for the man in that photo whose heart had sped up at her touch.

Mel leaned closer to her little sister and sighed, “Macy isn’t even in half of these. Trust Macy to go to bed early at her own birthday party.” 

“She is okay, right?” Maggie pressed. 

“I think she was just feeling a little overwhelmed,” Mel reasoned, “I went to check on her, but she just seemed, I don’t know, kind of distant. Maybe she’s not a big fan of surprises.”

Last night, after Macy had fled from the attic, he had tried to look for her. He knew it was fruitless to search for her in the throngs of people dancing in the living room or those having inane conversations, that would soon be forgotten, in the kitchen, but he had searched the house from top to bottom and even the gardens. 

His face had grown hot when Mel had caught him opening an airing cupboard and told him that Macy had texted her earlier to say she was feeling sick, so she had gone to her room to rest a while ago. Suffice to say, he orbed back to his own place not too long after.

“That’s probably it,” Maggie nodded. 

“Hey, speak of the devil,” Mel smiled, lifting her coffee to her lips.

Harry glanced at the kitchen door, to see Macy approaching slowly. She trod carefully like she was trying not to startle a wild animal, but her eyes didn’t cross him, instead they were settled on her two sisters. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” called Maggie, “come sit!”

“What are we looking at?” Macy asked, walking over and taking a seat at the head of the table next to Maggie. 

“We’re choosing the best photos from the party,” Mel replied.

Macy poured herself a cup of coffee, busying her hands and keeping her eyes down and focussed on her task. 

“I’m sure whatever you guys choose will be great,” she told them, noncommittally.

Maggie and Mel glanced at each other. 

“Are you feeling okay? After last night?” Mel asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it was just a headache. Don’t worry about me,” Macy smiled weakly. 

Maggie reached out and touched Macy’s hand, wanting to comfort her.

“Mace,” she began, but as soon as the word left her mouth Macy snatched her hand away as if burned by her little sister’s touch. Not that she would feel it if she were; a ‘perk’ to her demon side. 

“Oh no. You didn’t like your party?” Maggie said.

The young empath seemed disheartened by what the small contact had revealed to her, and a disappointed tone crept into her voice to show it. 

“No, no! The party was great,” Macy rushed to recover, aware that Maggie had most likely felt the confusion and sadness she had been moping in, “honestly, it was sweet. I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t feeling too well.”

“As long as that’s all,” Mel said. 

“That’s all.”

They both nodded but seemed unconvinced. 

Macy felt guilty for making her sisters worry when they had just tried to do something nice for her, but she didn’t say anything else for fear they’d ask more questions. Their concerned glances told her they were all too aware of the change in energy in the room. She snuck a glance at Harry’s back. He didn’t seem to be phased by her presence as he served up their breakfast onto four plates, but there wasn’t much she could tell from the back of his head. She couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. 

He set down Maggie’s and Mel’s breakfasts for them first and the two Vera sisters tucked in as soon as the plates touched the table. Then, he carried his and Macy’s to the table, and took his usual seat next to her. The pair shared a small, uneasy smile but then followed her sisters’ lead.

* * *

Eventually, duty called.

Although it was a Saturday, Maggie was set to help out with a charity event on campus – a bake sale for an animal shelter or a car wash for heart disease, or maybe a bake sale-car wash for animals with heart disease, none of the rest of the household was ever quite sure – and Macy agreed to drop Maggie off, as she had some admin to do at the lab. 

Harry was slightly relieved that it seemed that the sisters were busy. There was much less of a chance of him slipping up. Until he could get his feelings for Macy under control, it was probably best for him to keep some distance.

Maggie walked over to the sink, dropped her plate in the soapy water and called out, “thanks, Harry!” 

She rushed around the side of the table and pulled her bag onto her shoulder, flicking her hair to the other side as she did so.

“Mace, come on, I’m gonna be late,” Maggie urged. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Macy replied, rising from her chair.

She strolled up to Maggie and hung an arm around her shoulders and steered her out of the kitchen. As they left, the sound of Macy’s soft laugh at something Maggie had said carried through the hallway. It was musical and light, and it struck Harry’s heart; he couldn’t help but think back to the last time he heard her laugh, when they had been together, and she had looked at him like there was nowhere else she’d rather be. Now she was walking away from him. 

“You want to talk about it?” a voice behind him asked.

“Hm?” Harry turned to face Mel, “talk about what?” 

He moved towards the table and started stacking up the remaining plates and used cutlery abandoned on the dining room table as he usually would, trying to appear nonchalant, but the stubborn witch was having none of it. Mel followed Harry’s lead, collecting cups and glasses from the table and carrying them to the sink by his side.

“You seemed distracted at breakfast,” Mel said. 

“We all had a late night.”

“Mm. We all did. But that doesn’t explain why you wouldn’t look Macy in the eye.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, you two are usually inseparable, but not a word to each other today. Plus, I caught the kicked puppy looks. I mean, you’ve had the puppy dog eyes down for a while when it comes to her, but now it just looks…sad?” she said. 

Harry leaned back against the kitchen counter in front of the sink, feeling cornered by Mel who stood across from him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. He didn’t want the situation with Macy to interfere with his relationship with the other witches in his care. If Mel thought that he was prioritising his own personal affairs over their safety, he couldn’t help but think he’d have failed them. 

“Something happened last night, right?” she asked.

“How did you-?” 

“I dated a detective, remember? She taught me a trick or two, and you’re not as discreet as you think. So?”

“Of sorts,” he sighed. 

The lines in his forehead seemed deeper than normal, and his eyes were puffy from what must have been a long night with no sleep, Mel observed. She wished he wouldn’t be so stubborn sometimes, though she knew that was hypocritical. He was one of them, and she didn’t like seeing him this way.

She wasn’t exactly a fan of the nervous version of Macy at breakfast that morning either, who had fidgeted and fussed until she could leave the house with reason. 

“Did you guys have a fight?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” 

“So, how bad could it be?”

The kind, questioning look in her eyes made him want to trust her and shrink away from her at the same time. He knew that she just wanted to help, but he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable because of his affections for her sister. 

“You have no idea.”

She placed her hand on his arm, and a sympathetic crease formed between her eyebrows. 

“Harry…was it, perhaps, something to do with those puppydog eyes?”

Harry ran a hand down his face and settled it on his chin. 

“Look, I know I’m no empath, but I’m a decent listener and you look like you need to talk,” she told him gently.

“Thank you for the offer, Mel, but I’m fine.” 

“You don’t seem fine.”

“I appreciate your concern but whatever could have been between Macy and I is over, anyway. Nothing could ever come of it. It’s just not right. I’m her whitelighter and her friend, and that’s all. I’m fine with things the way they are.” 

The words stuck in his throat as he said them. A lump formed in his throat as he struggled to keep his voice even. He knew that it was a lie, but it was better this way. If he had to keep telling himself that, and lying to his girls, for the greater good, then that was what he would do. Macy would always be one of his girls, even if she would never be _his girl_.

* * *

Just outside of the kitchen, Macy took a deep breath. It was clear to her now that coming back to ask Harry to talk over tea later was a mistake. She should have known.  


Suddenly feeling small, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to ignore the heavy weight of unshed tears behind her eyes and the slow crawl of misery up her throat. She took a moment to work on a smile, only managing a pathetic twitch of her lips, and then went to join her little sister in the car.

* * *

“Harry, come on, you don’t need to talk to me,” Mel said, “but you have to talk to her.”

“She made her feelings for me clear.” 

“Did she, Harry? Macy isn’t exactly the type to talk about her feelings freely. If the whole Source incident didn’t teach you that, I don’t know what will. Did she really tell you how she feels?”

“I suppose not.” 

“So, find out.”

Harry knew she was right. They needed to talk about it, sooner rather than later. He thought he might as well hear it from Macy herself, and then he could at least try to get over his feelings for her. Rejection might sting but maybe it was what he needed. 

“I’ll talk to her,” he said quietly.

“Good.” 

Mel nodded, satisfied. She thought that maybe the whole advice thing was something she should practice more often, it might just improve her tips. Fulfilling the bartender cliché might not be so bad.

“Just one more thing…what you said about being discreet…” 

“Maggie and I may have talked.”

“Oh.” 

“It was kind of difficult not to notice you two making googly eyes at each other. Hence, why I couldn’t help but notice you _not_ making googly eyes this morning.”

He sighed. 

“I am sorry, Mel. I never meant to make either of you girls feel as if you couldn’t rely on me.”

Mel shook her head at his line of thought. 

“You’ve always protected us. We just want you to be happy, and if Macy—"

She saw him look down, and fiddle with the cuffs of his sleeves. 

“Harry, it’s okay,” she told him, “if Macy makes you happy, then we’re happy for you. And for her too.”

“I just don’t want you girls ever feeling that if I, _hypothetically_ , had feelings for Macy, I would compromise your safety or wellbeing. I’m afraid that, perhaps, it might cloud my judgement.” 

“Stop, Harry. Remember Hurricane Macy? You were prepared to get us out. I trust that you wanted to do what was best for each of us in that moment, even when it meant protecting _us_ from her. As far as I’m concerned, you both deserve this win. So, go and be all gross and sappy together but just remember that Maggie and I won’t hesitate to call you on your shit.”

Harry chuckled, relieved at her words. 

“How could I ever forget?”

“You better not,” she laughed, “now go talk to her.” 

“I will, but Mel?”

“Mmm?” 

“Take your own advice. Talk to your sister sometime, okay?”

Mel nodded. 

There was a lot of air to be cleared around here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!! I had to torture them just a little bit...  
> On the bright side, Harry has Mel's blessing!


	3. 'Cause I'm Never Late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Nothing has felt good enough to post and, although I'm still a bit unsure about this chapter, I hope you all enjoy :)  
> Don't mind me if I do a bit of editing and cleaning up around here!

Once Mel had told Macy that, _unlike their mother_ , she was a terrible liar. It turned out that she wasn’t wrong about that fact, especially when it came to the people Macy loved. And the people who loved her. 

Harry had always thought her more obvious tells were endearing. Before he would admonish himself for feeling that way about his charge, but recently he excused himself a bit more, partly due to Mel’s ‘get-your-head-out-of-your-arse’ pep talk.

In Harry’s experience, if Macy was telling you lies, chances are, you probably didn’t really want to know the truth. Given everything that she and her sisters had discovered over the past year, he knew she was never quite comfortable lying but sometimes it was for the best. After all, it wouldn’t do anyone any good to know the number of times the sisters had just managed to scrape a victory by the skin of their teeth preventing god- knows-what kind of disasters. In fact, _panic inducing_ would be an understatement.

But then he noticed a mask settle on her face around him, a placating smile and wide eyes, as she told him she had paperwork to do when he invited her for tea, and restless hands as she told him she had ‘a thing’ when he tried to get her alone at the house. Suddenly, the same expressions which had endeared her to him, made his chest feel tight. It seemed Macy had lots of ‘things’ lately. Endless paperwork, projects that demanded she stay late at the lab, sick co-workers, late afternoon jogs and urgent grocery lists. Anything that would keep her out of the house and always just out of Harry’s reach. 

There were times where Harry would find excuses to take a longer route around campus just to try and catch a glimpse of her, to make sure she was alright. But it seemed the hallways were barren of any sight of Macy, though he was sure that a couple of those times he spotted a flash of dark curls ducking inside of a room or the tail of a lab coat turning a corner for only a split second. He hoped he was wrong.

Typically, the pair would try to take the same lunch hours and would spend them quietly discussing game plans or laughing and gossiping about which of Harry’s students would be cute together. By the end of the hour, there would be elbows on his desk as they leaned closer to listen more intently to each other’s words, though that was as intimate as it got, the desk between them serving as a friendly little reminder not to get too close.

But recently Harry’s office had been far too empty for his liking.

* * *

Macy sighed and rolled two fingers over her temple. A glance at the clock only to be mocked by the excruciatingly slow stagger of the clock hands limping between seconds and minutes, and Macy’s lack of skill in manipulating time was just another thing that was getting on her nerves recently. She had resigned herself to keeping busy to avoid letting any thoughts of a certain professor disrupt her usually sensible mindset than he already had. That is why she found herself alone and willing time to pass by her so she could at least try to sneak in unnoticed.

But today seemed longer than the rest. She found herself taking twice as long as normal to perform simple tasks, like there was a frayed wire between her brain and body, sparking wildly, that was beyond her control. A glass tube had already been shattered into pieces as it became a casualty of Macy’s sudden affliction and the only reason another had not met the same fate was because of the reflexes of a poor intern.  


Unable to concentrate, Macy pushed away from her desk. She felt useless. Her birthday party, as problematic as it had been for her, had been a good distraction from the fact that she and her sisters were carrying a lot more responsibility than they could have ever imagined a year ago. It just so happened that Harry was the only one she wanted to talk to about it right now - not wanting to add any more pressure on her sisters - and with that off limits, Macy found herself internalising every little doubt and niggling question that applied itself to torturing her.

She stood up from her seat and glanced around guiltily. As suspected, everyone else had abandoned their work stations hours ago so no heads rose to watch her. She decided to follow their lead.

The scientist crossed the lab floor to retrieve her belongings where she had unceremoniously dumped them early that morning. Picking up her bag with one hand, she thrust the other inside, waving her fingers around until she felt cool metal and fished her phone out.  
As soon as it came to life in her hands, the clock flashed **9:39**. Close enough.  


The relief, however, was quickly accompanied by shame as an obnoxious meowing rang out through the open space. Macy quickly recognised it as the text tone Maggie had set for herself after commandeering her phone one evening.

Several messages popped up from both of her sisters; responses to her courtesy text letting them know she wouldn’t be home until late again. As Macy had come to expect, they expressed disappointment in her absence as they tried to bribe her home with promises of pizza and alcohol and an awfully adorable selfie of the two of them pouting playfully. Sent three hours ago.

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably and made a mental note to talk to them the next morning. Until then, at least, she would go home and finally get some rest.

Her eyes lifted to the ceiling and she let out a breath.

* * *

Macy rounded the corner and collided with something solid and oddly…warm. She stumbled back and breathed sharply through her nose in frustration. Today really was not her day.

Although, as the smell of safety surrounded her, through her disorientation her frazzled nerves thanked her for the shot of euphoria. She looked up to apologise to whoever she had body slammed when her eyes met a familiar pair.

“Harry! I, uh, I didn’t see you there,” she chuckled nervously, tugging at her hair.

She tried not to notice the way his hand fluttered awkwardly in the air as if he wanted to touch her but thought better of it. But she couldn’t help but imagine the light touch of his fingers burning against her side as he dragged them down to her hips. If she just took one step forward, she could- no, she wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , let herself think like that. He wasn’t hers to daydream about.

She shook her head minutely. Her body felt hot and not in the way she had grown accustomed to around Harry 

“Yes, um, I suppose, you didn’t” he shyly commented, politely ignoring her flustered appearance.

“So…er, what brings you here so late?” Macy asked.

The tension hung thickly in the air and Harry swiped his tongue over his bottom lip nervously. Macy’s willpower faltered as she tried to look anywhere but his mouth, and the shiny bottom lip she wanted to pull between her teeth. She bit down on her own to keep herself in check.

“I was just coming to find you,” he clarified.

“You were?”

Macy clasped her hands in front of her and twisted her fingers. This man had so often been a place of refuge for her in the past that it felt unnatural for her to want to escape his attention. 

“Yes, your sisters were concerned about you. They said you hadn’t replied to any of their messages all day. They seemed worried.”

“Shit, sorry, Harry! I just got caught up in my work. You didn’t have to come here. Really, I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Perfect.”

“You look…tired.”

“Thanks, Harry, you really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Wait, no, I didn’t-“

“I know, it’s okay, I was just…it was a bad joke.”

A beat passed with neither of them quite sure where to look.

“Right then,” Harry cleared his thought, “shall we?”

He lifted his arm and offered it to her, as he had done hundreds of times before, and Macy hesitated. Her bordering-on-dangerous intrusive thoughts about him were not going to fare well with him so close, but she couldn’t very well deny his offer to orb them both home. She hadn’t wanted to pretend but it seemed like that’s the way it had to be. So, pretend she would.

Harry prided himself on being an astute whitelighter, but secondarily he was a man that spent far too much of his time sneaking looks at the face of one Macy Vaughn, so the conflict that flashed across her features made it hard to hold back from her. 

“Macy,” he started meaningfully.

An open, honest depth in Harry’s eyes kept Macy’s own fixated.

Until, a low rumble that Macy first felt in the pit of her stomach grew louder in her ears. A flash of yellow they quickly recognised as a janitor’s trolley, a stark contrast to the emptiness of the hall, caught their eyes. An older gentleman, who Macy had become acquainted with recently due to her later hours, named Jack manned the trolley. He had a white-knuckled grip on the handles and a tremor wreaking havoc on his wrists, as he hobbled along at an impressive speed for a man who couldn't be a day under seventy. He had often croaked at her not to stay too late as he passed her on his rounds with a warmth behind the instructions that had almost made her want to give in and go home a few times.

He tipped his head politely at them as he passed, a knowing smile splitting the silver whiskers on his face.

The witch and her whitelighter smiled weakly back, partly disappointed by his sudden appearance and partly relieved.

"Good evening," Harry supplied.

Jack squinted at Harry from behind the glint of his glasses and jabbed a finger in his direction.

"You make sure this one," he pointed at Macy, "gets home safe, young man." 

"Of course," Harry told him sincerely.

 _Young man_. If only he knew.

Apparently that was all the elderly fellow needed to hear because he simply put his head down and carried on. Macy wanted to laugh at the perplexed look on Harry's face but as soon as Jack was gone, and the whir of the trolley wheels was gradually fading in the distance, Harry tugged her backwards into a vacant classroom. Macy stumbled with him, though his grip was soft with his hands resting gently on her wrists.

She stood in his hold until she couldn't bear the small intimacy any longer. The words he had spoken to her sister echoed in her mind as she gingerly took a step back, her own fingers skimming lightly along Harry’s wrists as she pulled them out from underneath his touch. He held back a gasp.

He tried again, an argument on the tip of his tongue, but before he could say anything, she beat him to the punch.

“Harry, it’s okay,” she told him.

“It is?”

Every fibre of Macy’s being was screaming at her to stop talking. She should just shut up and let it be. But pride and her fear of losing a treasured friendship won out over her desire.

“Yeah. I heard you talking to Mel.”

“You heard that?”

A shocking tinge of pink lit up his ears and spread steadily across his cheeks as he felt himself grow hot. He swallowed nervously and adjusted his tie, wanting desperately to loosen it but feeling a certain security of having it in place.

“Yes. And I get it, Harry, I really do. I’m sorry I put you in that position. I’m not usually the kind of person that, um, pounces on men like that, I swear. Well, you know that already I suppose, but I just thought you should know…I feel the same way. About us, about what happened between us.”

Macy shook her head, “ _and_ I’m rambling.”

“No, no,” Harry replied, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a small smile.

Macy nodded back. Her heart had sunk to the bottom of her stomach and was bobbing around in in the coffee she was already regretting having chugged that morning.

“So…where do we go from here?”

A slightly hysterical yet thin laugh spilled out of Harry’s mouth. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the words she had just said and the nervous slant of her eyebrows. All this time he had been so anxious about his feelings scaring her away that had he had never entertained the idea that she might return them, he assumed doing so would only set him up for disappointment. The idea of them being ‘gross and sappy’ together as Mel had so eloquently phrased it, was one that Harry assumed Macy would have found ridiculous.

“What?” Macy asked, anxiously.

Her heart grew heavier at his laughter followed by the look of relief that spread across his face. She couldn’t help but be hurt by his reaction. She had known that he just wanted to be her friend, he had told her sister as much, but the reality of his disinterest was present in the deepening of the soft crinkles by his eyes and the fall of his shoulders. His feelings for her were nothing more than a missed opportunity pushed aside with linked arms and a smile.

“I just…I never expected that you would say that.”

His instincts clouded by the barrage of emotions vibrating through his body and with his mind preoccupied with remembering how to breathe, Harry missed her dejected wince. Had he not been so caught up in his head, he might have noticed the way she flinched from a sting of what she thought was rejection. After all, he was her trusty whitelighter, and, after all, she was such a terrible liar.

“Looks like I’m just full of surprises.”

Harry gazed at her fondly.

“Told you that you could never be predictable.”

Macy managed a small laugh. The sooner they got back to normal the better. No matter how ridiculous she felt right now, she was pleased that Harry was still able to crack jokes with her and she wasn’t about to jeopardise that.

“We should get home, right?” she said quietly.

“Wait, Macy, uh…do you think that perhaps I could see you tomorrow night?”

“See me?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, of course,” he answered.

She wanted to say no, to run away again and lick her wounds in private and not let him too close. But perhaps this was their chance to just be good friends to each other again. 

“No, no, I mean, yes. I mean…why not?” Macy nodded. 

“Wonderful.”

She tilted her head to the side.

“Let’s-“

“Of course.”

And when he offered her his arm once more, she didn’t hesitate.

* * *

“Harry!” Maggie grinned, not phased by the sudden appearance of her sister and their whitelighter in their kitchen, “I see you found our stray!”

The empath was sat on the counter – a pet peeve of Harry’s he decided to let slide on account of his very strange day – picking at a bowl of popcorn with one hand and scrolling through her Instagram stories with the other. An oversized hoodie and the pile of hair on top of her head told her new companions that she was ready for bed already.

“Sorry,” Macy offered.

A little part of her felt guilty as she thought vaguely about the irony of her nineteen-year-old sister waiting up for her.

“Mmmhmm,” Maggie drew out, “you’ve got to stop working yourself so hard, Mace, I mean it.”

“Yes ma’am,” Macy replied dutifully, smiling at her sister’s concern.

“Ma’am?” Macy heard behind her.

“I didn’t realise we were being so formal these days,” Mel teased, “though, I was starting to worry about if we’d still be on a first name basis the next time we saw you, Macy.”

The middle Vera was leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed over the worn Winnie the Pooh pyjama top she was sporting, with a look of disapproval on her face. Macy might have believed that her sister was genuinely angry with her had it not been for the quirked eyebrow and the soft beginning of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“Haha,” Macy said, and rolled her eyes cheekily.

“No, seriously, Maggie and I were about to start putting up missing posters, but we weren’t sure what you answered to anymore.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And we missed you.”

Macy smiled shyly.

“It’s way past my bed time, however,” Maggie joked, “and I need my beauty sleep. So, I lovingly bid you adieu, but we are having a sisterly catch up tomorrow. No excuses. On penalty of banishment.”

Both of her sisters laughed and waved her off.

“I should probably go up too,” Macy announced to the room.

She glanced in Harry’s direction but avoided his gaze when he turned to meet hers.

“Now?” Mel asked.

She had hoped she would get the chance to speak to her tonight, but if Macy went up to bed now, she would miss her chance.

“Yeah, I’m actually pretty tired,” Macy apologised, “but I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Maggie sounded pretty serious about that whole banishment thing.”

“Alright. Night, Mace.”

“Night.”

Macy looked behind Mel to Harry and tried to hold herself back from running up the stairs there and then. Instead, she gave him a little wave and took each stair one at a time willing herself not to look back at him.

_Eyes. Ahead. Now._

_He’s. Your. Friend._

_Leave. It. Alone._

_Don’t. Ruin. This._

* * *

Once Macy disappeared from sight, Mel turned back to face Harry who was wearing a small, secretive smile as his eyes lingered where she had just been.

“What’s up with you?” she asked him.

“I think…I have a date with Macy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> P.S. I see you, Charmed Writers, naming your first episode "Safe Space" - sounds a little familiar ;) (I promise I'm joking!!)


	4. To The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have a date! Except only one of them realizes they are on a date...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excited and a little scared to be posting this one!
> 
> The second season is already giving me way too many plot ideas to the point where I just want to lock myself indoors and write Hacy fanfiction all day...

“Maggie!” Macy wailed.

“Hold still!” Maggie scolded. 

“Are you trying to scalp me?”

“I wasn’t but hold still,” Maggie warned playfully, “or I might just.”

Macy wondered if this might have been what it would have been like to grow up with her sisters. She was sat cross legged on Maggie’s bed while the younger girl knelt behind her threading her fingers through her hair. As soon as she had arrived home earlier that day she had been dragged to her little sister’s room by a very excited Maggie who immediately got to work. 

Being used as a substitute for a hair styling doll was something a young Macy probably wouldn’t have minded provided she could read a book or watch an episode of Heaven’s Vice at the same time. Her father used to joke that she was an indoor cat; she was fairly content to just quietly curl up into your side and do her own thing. 

With her attention on the way Maggie purposefully twisted the strands of her hair, she imagined how they would have changed from the clumsiness of chubby toddler fingers clumsily pinching her curls into butterfly hair clips.

Perhaps Mel would have joined in too, she and Macy taking turns bearing the responsibility of being Maggie’s model. Or maybe she would have preferred more active games like hide and seek. Macy imagined Mel would play a strategic game, mapping out all the best hiding spots around the manor in her head and refusing to share them with her sisters. 

Before she could let herself fall too deep into her mind she turned her thoughts back to the present.

“I don’t know why you even insisted on doing this anyway, Harry isn’t going to care what my hair looks like. At least, I hope not.”

Macy was happy to play along to spend time with her sister but she was certain her efforts were going to waste.

“Of course not, it’s just that I couldn’t believe it when Mel told me that you and Harry are going out tonight.”

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t see why he didn’t invite you two anyway, we always hang out together.”

Maggie laughed, not quite believing her sister’s attitude.

“We’re not your chaperones, Mace,” Maggie grinned, shaking her head.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Macy asked, craning her neck to the left slightly to help Maggie tame her hair. 

“It means he wants some alone time with you, silly,” Maggie replied. 

Macy sighed. She appreciated her sister trying to play match maker with other people, but she’d rather not think about the messy implications of her trying to do the same with her and Harry right now.

“Where is Mel anyway?”

“She was here earlier but then she got a text. An _emergency_ , she said. But she promised to be back soon,” Maggie explained.

“Were you wielding your hair straighteners when you made her promise?” Macy teased.

“Hey!” Maggie laughed, “I’ve been missing sisterly bonding recently.”

“I'm sorry, Mags. Truly.”

“I know. It’s okay. Let’s just focus on getting you all dolled up, shall we?”

“Whatever you say,” Macy laughed.

* * *

“So, tonight’s the big night,” Mel smiled at Harry.

Her smile faltered as she took in Harry’s scruffy appearance. His shirt was peeled open slightly at the top with the buttons drooping pitifully and his hair was pushed up messily at the front as if he had been running his fingers through it. A thin film of sweat made the pale skin of his forehead glow and he swiped the back of his hand against his hairline.

“What’s wrong, Har?” she asked.

“I am afraid that I might be just a little out of practice with this whole dating lark,” Harry confessed.

Mel couldn’t help but laugh. It was sweet that he was so concerned but she also knew from the way he was fidgeting nervously that she would have to do some damage control.

“Harry, you can’t be that bad. You flirt with Macy all the time!”

“Preposterous!”

“Right, sure, Harry,” Mel rolled her eyes, “I’m not saying you’re all pick-up lines and suave hair flicks but, whatever you’re doing? Macy seems to dig it.”

“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that,” Harry warned.

“Look, Harry, you've got the date. You’re halfway there already. Why are you doubting yourself so much?”

“I don’t want to mess things up between us," he explained, "or for the four of us. Mel, I need this to go well.”

Mel nodded with understanding.

When she had first noticed that something was going on between her older sister and her whitelighter a while ago she wasn’t sure how to feel. Her initial reaction was concern: a romance between the pair could result in disaster if approached in the wrong way. Finding themselves in high pressure environments was just a consequence of being who they were and, as she had learned, the actions of those in love were difficult to justify with logic. To a degree, risking their lives for each other was just what they did, but if those rose-tinted love goggles got clouded, Mel couldn’t help but worry that they would take those risks unnecessarily or much too far. 

The fate of the world depended on their family bond being as strong as it could be and one slip could mean something dire. But more importantly, Mel knew that they all _needed_ each other in their own ways. Maggie craved the human connection, Macy was making up for years of being on her own and Harry couldn't even remember being a part of a family before them. Mel herself couldn't imagine not having her sisters and whitelighter around and the security and love that surrounded their presence in her life. The thought of division caused by a potential break-up cut her deep. Would it be the kind where herself and Maggie were forced to pick a side? To choose whether to console their heartbroken sister or comfort their loyal whitelighter?

But she quickly realized that it could also be incredible. Perhaps the union would only strengthen the bonds between them all and make it the greatest chance either ever took. Maggie seemed elated by the concept of their sister falling in love and falling for Harry of all people. The way she saw it, their sister and one of their best friends finding love with each other and nurturing that love was a beautiful thing. And, as she had babbled, the way they lit up around each other was so obvious.

It was their decision if it was worth it.

So, now she wanted to help. 

“Alright, I guess we’re doing this then,” she sighed. 

“What?”

“I’m going to help you practice.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Pretend I’m Macy. Just…about half a foot shorter and, you know, never going to gaze dreamily into your eyes.”

“Mel, this is ridiculous.”

“Harry, you haven’t even tried it!”

“Okay, fine. What do I do?”

“Well…” Mel trailed off slightly. 

She made a fist with her left hand, pressed it to her lips as she cleared her throat and sat back in her seat. 

“Harry,” Mel tested out, trying to supress laughter as she imitated her big sister, “um...are you ready for our date?”

Harry was only able to stare dumbly at the witch before him.

“Uh…yes?”

“Really? You don’t look too sure,” Mel quipped.

“Melanie!” 

“Right, sorry! Um, you look very…dashing, tonight,” she tried.

“Thank you, er, so do you?”

Mel’s eyebrows knitted together.

“You think Macy looks _dashing_?”

“Yes? No. No! I think Macy is beautiful," he blushed, "I panicked! Oh god, Mel, this is not going to go well at all.”

He dragged his hands down over his now very red face.

“Harry, stop. I’m sorry. Look, clearly this isn’t working but Macy likes _you_. You could call her anything, well maybe not anything,” she paused at the betrayed look Harry gave her, “and she won’t care. Girls aren’t expecting fairy tales, they just want someone who cares about them and will listen to them. Just be yourself, Harry, that’s what Macy’s into.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said, smiling slightly.

“I am.”

Harry took a deep breath and dragged his fingers through his hair creating more waves. 

“Your Macy impression is awful, by the way.”

A mere second passed before the two of them broke out into laughter. Mel’s laughter was deep from her stomach and she was happy to see Harry looking more relaxed than he had been when she found him.

* * *

Harry held his breath as Macy approached him. He was thankful for the time had spent scrubbing up because _awe_ was not a significant enough word to describe what he felt looking at her. Her long legs were shown off by her casual green dress and, with her hair pulled back, he had a full view of her slender neck and the way that neckline dipped temptingly above her cleavage. Fortunately for his dignity, Harry was a gentleman, so he brought his eyes back up to her face but that adorable smile wasn’t helping his oxygen deprivation.

“Macy, you look…wonderful,” he finally breathed.

There was so much more that he wanted to say. To start with, he wanted to tell her that she was lovely and he couldn’t believe they were really doing this, but her bright, curious gaze twisted his tongue. For a split second he considered orbing out of there out of his own anxiety. That idea disappeared as soon as it had formed though, especially when he caught the apprehensively pleased glance she directed at the ground. 

“Thank you, Harry,” she told him, “you don’t look bad yourself.”

He chuckled and stretched out his left arm and tugged at the sleeve of his blazer. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to pick out something to wear for tonight. He wanted to impress her. He always had. Secretly, whenever he taught the girls something new about the workings of the magical community – or rather, the magical community as it had been – or guided them through defeating a new foe, or even just when he had felt of service to them in doing so, he would look to Macy. Of course, he wanted the approval of her sisters too, and making them feel safe always filled him with pride, but the looks of admiration he earned from the demon-witch made him want to get rewarded with that expression for reasons outside of his duties. 

Pleasing Macy Vaughn, he found, was highly addictive. The kind of addiction that couldn’t be managed with any rehab, that would stick with him for as long as he was around her. To his surprise, he didn’t mind all that much.

“Why thank you.”

Looking him up and down, Macy swallowed. She could have sworn the universe wanted to torture her. Maybe it was her cheating death as a baby, or the unbalance caused by her dual nature, or maybe that time she felt like playing God a little too much – but Harry looking finer than he had any business being felt like a punishment when she couldn’t do anything about it. 

“So, er, where did you want to go?”

“I know a little spot, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” she replied.

Harry paused for a second, and then offered his hand to her. 

She frowned in confusion as she was used to hooking her arm around his but decided not to think too much of it as she took his hand in hers. 

* * *

Macy didn’t know whether she’d ever get used to the feeling of orbing. Warmth spread from her toes to her scalp and her whole body felt tingly as if a flock of tiny birds were brushing their wings against her skin. She wondered if Harry felt the same way. A glance in his direction and she saw that he was studying her waiting for a reaction.

She surveyed the surrounding area. They stood on a quiet street which was home to numerous peculiar businesses. The first that caught Macy’s eye was a tattoo parlour. The building itself was old and red brick, suited more to a small Victorian bank than whatever Macy could imagine was behind those walls. 

Intricate designs had been plastered all over the windows in every style imaginable, some bursting with colour and others boldly presented in black and white. Through all over the overlap of detailed skulls and outlines of willow trees, Macy couldn’t see into the shop, but a faint orange glow from within shone slightly through the paper. The only entrance was a tall door painted black with a large golden door knocker with a model of a tiny crow perching atop it.

Adjacent to the tattoo place, standing at half its height, was a small cottage. Across the front there was a battered sign with missing letters that read ' **CH LKH LL INN** ’. Its walls were stony and uneven, and the doorstep was aged and scuffed, but despite its run-down appearance, it had an inviting presence. Macy wondered if that’s where they might be going, but when Harry tugged on her hand ( _Oh. They were still holding hands._ ) she turned her attention to the end building. Her cheeks grew hot from the feeling of his fingers brushing against her own and she pulled away under the guise of getting a better look, wanting to spare them both from potential awkwardness.

Weather-worn, grey bricks made up the front of the building and maroon curtains were nestled snugly in the corners of low bay windows but the lighting was dim so she couldn’t quite see what was inside. Flaky yellow paint was peeling from the front door, splintering and exposing the wood underneath, and a small brass bell hung from a rusty arm affixed to the wall closest to the door handle.

“In here,” Harry spoke lowly.

He smiled at her over his shoulder as he led her to the front door and gently pushed it open.

As the two of them stepped through the door, the floor boards creaked under their weight. Macy assumed the floor was wooden, at least, since the entirety of it was covered in rugs of various colours and textures, like a giant patchwork quilt. 

Heaps of books littered the floor, hard and paperbacks alike, bent at the corners and clearly well-loved; three of the walls were lined with bookcases featuring a range of different genres all mingling on the same shelves and the furthest wall was a myriad of cuckoo clocks.

“What is this place?” Macy asked in wonder.

Watching her soak it all up, Harry felt excitement rise in his chest.

“You’ll see,” he answered.

He motioned for her to follow him and led her further into the building. As she tried to follow Harry’s steps, her eye kept getting caught by the vast assemblage of strange objects around them and she almost tripped on a mannequin being used as a coat rack as they passed under an arch and Harry began making his way up a staircase. 

When they reached the top, he pushed aside a thick, purple velvet curtain and held it open for her. She ducked past him and into a room that was stark white and mostly empty except for a few dusty tarpaulins in the corner. A world away from the mess of downstairs.

Macy spun around to face Harry.

“If you’ve brought me here to kill me you can just tell me now.”

Harry chuckled.

“Not quite, I have other plans,” he joked.

Macy tilted her head, confused by the nervous but excited look blooming on his face.

Harry nodded to the open window at the other side of the room. Thin white curtains fell from a rail and piled on the floor, puffing out intermittently as the light wind billowed through them. 

Macy raised her eyebrows.

She watched as Harry crossed the room and gracefully climbed out of the window. She followed, mostly out of curiosity, and when he held out his hand to help her through, she took it and squeezed as she shimmied through the window after him.

Harry, apparently, had not lost his mind as she found herself stood on a small roof terrace. Along the wall that wrapped around the rooftop sat a line of lanterns glowing against the dimming sky and complimented by a smaller one placed in the middle of the wooden table in the centre. Two chairs were tucked in either side.

Macy glanced between the two seats. 

It had never been like this before. She was used to busy bars and kitchen conferences, usually with her two nosy sisters hanging around as a convenient buffer, what she wasn’t used to was intimate dining arrangements with her unfairly sexy whitelighter. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

She half expected to snap out of it, for this all to be a part of some convoluted daydream and the embarrassment to set in. Because if this was really happening, she would have to figure out how to sit through this evening without embarrassing herself. Friends. She could totally do friends. 

“Wow, this is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

She wandered over to the edge and leaned over. 

Thick orange spilled out from the sun like a beacon softened by the backdrop of dark clouds which smudged the light into a deep purple as it washed over the silhouettes of trees blackened by the night and lit up the underside of the clouds above.

“Harry,” she breathed, turning to face the man, “how did you find this place?”

Harry felt like he had been winded staring at Macy lit up by the sunset. Her eyes were pools of amber with dark rings and from the gentle slope of her nose to the curve of her smile, he couldn’t help but be amazed by how the sun seemed to be graced by Macy and not Macy by the sun.

“Ah, well, you know me, Macy, I can’t resist a good bookstore.”

He scratched the back of his neck.

“Is that what this is?”

“It's a family business. It was first built in the 19th century as a bookstore, then it became a shoemakers, then a furniture store, the list goes on. The current owner, some great grandson, decided to turn it back into a bookstore, not that you’d notice from all the clutter. He’s of the belief that some things are too important to simply get rid of. A rather kind man, nonetheless.”

“I suppose that’s why he’s letting us be here tonight?”

“I may have called in a favour.”

“Oh,” she smiled.

“Excuse me one moment,” he held up a finger.

As Harry vanished from sight the terrace suddenly felt much colder when she was there alone. Her eyes fell over the set up again and she tried to compose herself before he returned but she wasn’t granted much time to do so as he popped back into view, this time branding a picnic basket.

“Surprise,” he grinned. 

A laugh crept up on her at how proud of himself he looked. 

"Dinner, I presume?”

“That would be correct.”

Macy chuckled again. She couldn’t believe he was so sweet. Nobody had ever made such an effort for her - friend or not - and if this was being Harry’s friend, as upsetting as that label was to her deep down, she wanted it. 

Harry set down the basket on his side of the table and then walked around to hers to pull out her chair for her. 

Normally, she might have second guessed a man’s intentions in doing so, but with Harry the gentlemanly gesture was endearing so simply she accepted it.

She turned her head to the view once more as he took his seat across from her.

“With everything that we’ve seen it’s incredible to think that places like this still exist,” she thought aloud.

“Isn’t this what everything we do is for?” Harry asked, “Places like these? Moments like this?”

There was something she couldn’t read in his eyes, but it set Macy’s body alight. Every part of her body craved his attention no matter how much she chastised herself.

“I guess you’re right,” she looked down. 

The whole world seemed like it was on pause from up here and she was grateful for the stillness that enveloped them.

“Sometimes it’s just far too easy to forget that the sun rises every morning and sets each evening when there’s always a fire to be put out somewhere,” she mused.

“I know what you mean. I’ve seen countless, but most I’ve forgotten,” Harry replied sadly.

For a moment they both stared at the shadow casting slowly across the word below them, and when their eyes drifted back to each other Macy was determined to turn the sad, longing look on his face into something else.

“Hey, we’ll never forget this one then,” Macy smiled, “promise?”

“Promise,” Harry smiled sincerely. 

Macy leaned forward and stuck her elbow on the table, her little finger stuck up to the sky. When Harry just stared at her she nodded towards her outstretched hand until his lips turned up and he dutifully wrapped his own pinkie around hers.

“That’s settled then.”

Harry laughed, “shall I expect a quiz on it later?”

Macy hid her smile behind her other hand, enjoying falling back into her banter with Harry, almost forgetting she wasn’t supposed to let herself fall like this again.

“You do know me,” she said, hiding the confession behind a joke.

“I suppose I just really want to,” he replied.

“You do?”

With their fingers still intertwined, Harry tenderly rearranged their fingers so that his were laced with hers, and his thumb ran soothingly over the back of her hand. Macy felt her breath hitch at the light sensation of the affection he was showing her, and her mind could barely process what was happening. He looked up at her for a reaction and the way her lips parted made it impossible for him not to take a risk. Slowly, he lifted her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

“I do.” 

Macy’s throat seemed to close in on itself and she instinctively jerked her hand out of his, not sure how to react to this development.

Alarm flashed across Harry’s face and he cursed himself inwardly. _You idiot! Now you've made her uncomfortable._

“I’m sorry, Macy,” he choked, “I don’t know what came over me, it won’t happen again-“

“Harry-”

“No, Macy, it’s okay. I understand. I can take you home if you’d like,” he told her, rising from the table and pacing over to the edge.

“Harry!”

She pushed away from the table and made her way towards him.

“I wanted our first date to be good for you and here I’ve gone and mucked it up already-“

She took another step towards him to get him to snap out of it, to get him to just focus on her. 

“Harry, no, wait…did you just say ‘first date’?”

“I completely understand if you want it to be the last-“

“No, no, Harry! This…this is a date?”

“It…was meant to be.”

“But what you said to Mel…”

“Well, she already knew that I had...feelings...for you…”

“You do?”

“Why else would I ask you on a date?”

“Oh my god. This is a date.”

Macy looked around, suddenly all too aware of the atmospheric sunset and mood lighting, and tried to fight back the giggles but they came out in full swing. Her hands cupped her smile and tried to catch her laughter but it slipped through her fingers and Harry’s look of bewilderment and slight hurt made her catch her breath.

“I am such an idiot,” she said.

“Macy, it’s okay. We can just forget all about this,” he assured her, though the anxiety and disappointment in his voice hindered his words.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“What?”

Truthfully, she didn't know what possessed her to say it either. The words had just tumbled out of her mouth leaving her completely exposed to him and the vulnerability should have frightened her but the way he was staring at her lips just made her unapologetic.

“You heard me.”

Harry nodded absently. His heart pounded as he stepped closer to Macy so that they were almost chest to chest.

He cupped her face, not quite believing that this was really happening and that she was letting him do this, and his thumb swept down over her cheek and across her lips. The smoothness of her skin and the way she angled her jaw to lean into his affections felt like the purest magic beneath his hands. 

His touch was soft and slow against her mouth, pushing gently against her bottom lip. Macy let out a shaky breath and she delicately pressed her lips against his thumb.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

Her dark eyes lifted to his, looking up at him with a hungry gaze through her eyelashes, and she held back a needy whine as his eyes met hers with equal desire and anticipation. She pushed any thoughts that weren't him and them and right now, out of her mind unwilling to give herself reason to change her mind. It felt right.

Macy nodded slightly, her lips never leaving his skin as she silently told him it was okay. His head spun as he felt her tongue flick ever so slightly against the pad of his thumb and the heat of her mouth lit a fire deep in his abdomen. His other hand snaked down her body and squeezed her hip, loving the way her back arched and she pushed herself against him. 

He brought his thumb down to grip her jaw more firmly and tipped her face up so he could bring his lips to hers. His mouth captured hers and the first kiss was sweeter than either of them could have imagined with the passion that was igniting between them. Macy wanted to cry at how good it felt to finally be caught up in him. It didn't take long until the kiss deepened and she was helpless to the way his tongue sent waves of pleasure through her. She needed more.

Her hands started trailing slowly down his chest between them. A groan escaped from deep in his throat when he felt her nimble fingers tug on his belt, and he bit down on her lip in response. She slipped two of her fingers under his belt sliding them against jeans, using the leverage to bring his hips closer to hers.

The whitelighter walked his witch backwards until she found herself against the ledge of the rooftop. The moan that escaped her mouth, as she felt her thighs hit the edge, was low and pleased and she felt her legs grow weaker as she clung to him. He released his grip on her jaw in favour of planting them on her bottom and Macy felt herself being lifted up onto the ledge; she was caught off guard by how strong his hands felt exploring her flesh making her hips surge forward, and she whimpered when he started sucking and nibbling at the delicate skin along her jaw. She was too high on the feeling of him to care about the drop behind her. 

Her thighs fell open, creating a space between her legs for him, but her calves wrapped around waist claiming him as hers. Protectively, he moved his hand to the small of her back to keep her balanced as his other slid up under her dress devastatingly slowly. His fingers dipped into the crease of her thigh as he torturously dragged them further inside her thigh.

“Oh, Harry,” she gasped against his ear.

He drew back slightly, his fingers still drawing circles over her skin, and took in her mussed-up appearance. The air between them was filled with the sound of their laboured breath.

“I’d count this as a pretty good first date,” he teased.

Macy shook her head and giggled.

“Shut up, Greenwood.”

He smirked. 

A second later, the couple disappeared leaving an untouched picnic basket in their wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to bring the sisters in somehow and also amuse myself (I needed some nervous and awkward Harry), oops! But they finally had a conversation...kind of!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. If I'm Late to The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macy and Harry fluff!!

It must have been a dream.

It would not have been out of character for her. She had too often let her mind wander into dangerous territory when it came to Harry, hence why she lay in bed now, trying to will away the ache between her legs to test herself. To test whether it truly existed at all or was just the result of yet another passionate dream about him. Her eyes remained tightly shut out of fear – though, she was almost certain that she could feel the heat of another body bigger than hers spread out in her bed only inches away from her fingertips and the curve of her hip and she could practically feel the dip of the mattress beneath her thighs, tempting her to curl into it. 

Still, she was afraid. Afraid that if she were to open her eyes she would be met with the sight of her crumpled pillows and an empty side of the bed. The confidence that had surged through her at the chance of kissing him the night before was still lingering around the edges of her mind but diminished slightly by this nagging fear. It was a deep, possibly irrational fear, an unfortunate result of previous feelings that everything good she touched turned to dust, but it was real to her.

She just wanted to let herself stay in this dream a little bit longer. The dream where she would open her eyes and he would still be there, existing outside of her head, so soft and warm and real. Flesh and bone, flesh that would move beneath her fingers as she dragged them over his firm shoulders and dug them in, not caring about the red marks her nails would make, delicious retribution for the ones he was sucking into her neck. A throbbing ignited between her thighs and she rolled her hips in a fruitless attempt to create some friction there. Usually she would wake up from these dreams incredibly frustrated but surprisingly this time it was accompanied by a profound sense of satisfaction. 

She breathed in deeply and arched her back, squeezing the muscles in her thighs and flexing her toes. She felt the ache spread down her thighs but that wasn’t the only thing she felt. As she rolled her neck and stretched out her fingers, they brushed against something warm.

She couldn’t wait anymore. Slowly, she opened her eyes. 

Damn.

There, next to her in bed, was her Harry. As real as the air she was breathing. Clearer than any daydream she had ever concocted of him like this. Pale skin dusted with freckles and faint stubble over his chin, and a broad chest she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to drag her mouth down or snuggle into or rather which she wanted to do first. His eyes were still closed, and she missed the baby blues despite the nerves she felt prickling under her skin at the thought of him waking up and looking down at her. 

Without thinking, she ran a single finger down his side over his ribs, mesmerized by the feeling of his smooth skin and revelling in the fact that he was really there, really with her.

“That tickles.” 

The roughness of his voice broke through the fog of her amazement and she gasped, her shoulders seizing up in shock as she snatched her hand away from him, even as his eyes remained close.

“H-Harry..." 

It was only then that his eyes opened and settled on her blearily, and she felt the weight of his gaze on her.

“Why did you stop?” he whispered. 

“What?”

All she got in response was a low rumble from the back of his throat as his eyes travelled down her body. She shivered. 

“Harry, I…did we? Are we…?”

The concern in her voice seemed to bring him out of his sleepy haze and she felt the dip in the mattress let up slightly as Harry sat up next to her. Macy couldn’t help but watch the way his body twisted under the thin sheets, muscles tightening in his stomach and tensing in his arms, the way he leant back on one hand as the other rubbed the back of his neck. She remained on her back, her curls forming a halo around her head as she regarded him intently. 

“It’s okay, Macy,” he reassured her quietly. 

Macy nodded, biting her lip.

“Harry,” she whispered. 

“Yes?”

“Is this really happening?” she asked. 

Immediately after the words left her mouth, she realised that she probably sounded like a crazy person, but she didn’t know what else to ask in that moment. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to hear from him, perhaps it was just his voice that she was craving. But he seemed to understand.

“Yes, Macy. It’s really happening,” he assured her, then paused, “if you want it to be…” 

“Yes,” she said immediately, followed by a blush lighting up her cheeks, “yes…I don’t just want this to be a one-time thing, Harry…I…I want you…”

Her voice trailed off towards the end in apprehension of rejection but, as he often did, he surprised her. 

“I want you too,” he answered both her confession and her prayer, matching her lowered tone.

“Do you really mean that?” she asked, pushing herself up so that she was at his level, so that they were eye-to-eye.

“I do,” he admitted, “I know this hasn’t exactly been a smooth beginning – heaven’s knows how I could mess up asking you out for dinner so horrendously – but I can’t fool myself into believing that it’s not really you that I want anymore.” 

“You messed up?” Macy laughed, “Harry, I’m pretty most girls see candlelit dinners and sense romance from a mile away. I’m just sorry that just happened to find the one woman in the world who has only ever experienced that the one time when her ex-boyfriend was possessed by an Abiku demon with an ulterior motive of stealing her soul…”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Harry laughed and pulled her towards him. 

She joined in his light laughter as he reclined so that they were both huddled up under the blankets once more but this time she was using his bicep as a pillow. They relished the feeling of their bodies fitting together finally, as though this was intended from the moment they met.

“But I could never be sorry about finding you,” he told her. 

Macy’s breath hitched interrupting her laughter. It didn’t take a genius to understand that her greatest fear was abandonment by those she loved, it might as well have been written on her soul in bright, red permanent marker. It was written across her journal in quieter black ink. And Harry had witnessed the impact of it first-hand so at his words she felt a wave of acceptance and belonging wash over her.

She willed herself not to start crying or something ridiculous, and instead settled for a slight ramble. 

“I’m not good at this type of thing, Har. Relationships and partnership and feelings, basically anything that you can find in a Hallmark movie I probably suck at.”

She didn’t want it to sound like an argument. The last thing she wanted right now was to push him away but she needed him to know. 

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I wouldn’t consider myself an expert either,” he told her seriously, “it’s been a long time since I’ve cared about any woman the way I care about you.”

She slipped her hand into the one of his that wasn’t now rubbing soothing circles into her side – something she was certain she could get used to - giving it a reassuring squeeze. He received her message loud and clear: she wasn’t going to leave him either. 

“So what do we do?”

“Well, I haven’t been in a functional relationship as far back as I can remember and your last candlelit dinner was with an Abiku…I’d call that pretty limited evidence for our competency in relationships,” he teased. 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to investigate further with you, Professor?” she couldn’t supress her grin.

“That is exactly what I’m asking, Doctor.” 

“I would be delighted. On one condition,” Macy bargained.

“Ah, what is that?” 

“I get to plan the next date.”

Harry laughed, “gladly.” 

The new couple spent the next hour drifting in and out of sleep, adjusting to the feeling of having someone there. Someone to hold and be held in return, to feel as one breathed out and the other breathed in, to love and be loved back equally and fully.

Later, when Macy would confront her sisters about why the hell they hadn’t told her that she was going on a date with their mentor, Mel would shrug and tell her _we thought you knew!_ and Maggie would simply tell her _I love you, Mace, but you are hopeless_. 

It was going to be a hell of a ride for the new couple and their family. 

It was definitely worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a while back and was planning to update this fic after I finally finished with my uni assignments and I'd binge read as much Hacy fanfic as I possibly could... seeing the amount of new content makes me so happy!
> 
> [Side note:  
> Thank you so much to all the amazing writers out there for providing us with such good content (don't mind me when I go on my random binging sprees, oops) and to all of the lovely readers who continue to show support and love, to everyone who creates for a fandom - whether that's creating art, fan videos, coming up with prompts or theories or anything else - and to anyone who simply continues to give their time and support. I love you all.]
> 
> POSSIBLE SPOILERS:
> 
> But then last night's episode happened...and hey, I'm all about tropes and miscommunication - this story is a pretty good representation of my feelings on it, clearly - but I'm not sure how to feel about everything that's happened. And ultimately, I am a proud member of Team Let's Talk About Our Feelings. I felt like I needed to put some good Hacy vibes out into the universe a little bit early (and to cope lol).
> 
> So, the final chapter will be up within a week to wrap things up, fill a void of fluffy Hacy in my heart and for Macy and Mel to finally have the conversation that I have been waiting for. It's longer than this one, I promise! I hope you enjoy this one though! Stay strong, Hacy fandom!
> 
> P.S. the throwback to chapter one near the end was very intentional ;)


	6. With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armchair naps (AKA, Harry's time to reflect), domesticity, sister talks and all the good fluffy things.

\- A few months later -

Harry squirmed, trying to readjust his position without moving his centre of gravity as to not disturb the pile of long limbs in his lap and the fluffy curls tickling his chin. 

He had quickly worked out the system of resting his left cheek against her curls at such an angle that her hair wouldn’t brush against his nose, and was glad she hadn’t been awake to witness the contortion of his face as he held back a sneeze the first few times – although her inevitable giggle would have been rewarding enough to assuage any embarrassment. But he had yet to figure out how to turn the page of his newspaper without waking the sleeping beauty. He flexed his arms, testing out holding the paper slightly sideways so his left could remain securely around her shoulders. A soft, stuttering snore erupted from the witch in his arms and Harry smirked. 

This was just another one of those things he had learnt about her after that first date. Macy Vaughn snored. They’d be laying in bed or on the sofa watching a show neither of them would remember the next day, too caught up in the feeling of their shared warmth soaking into their bones and the freedom of being able to press skin on skin without flinching away, when he’d hear a snuffle as she fell asleep. He wished he could tease her about it, but he also knew she would see right through him: he quite frankly adored it.

He leant back in the armchair. It was a spot in the manor that he had gravitated towards more and more as he spent an increasing amount of time in his charges’ home. He had been very concerned about encroaching on the sisters’ space, understanding that they needed room to unwind, especially on days that were as emotionally taxing as they were physically.

Each had tried to disillusion Harry from his belief that his presence could ever be an intrusion, but he had tried to limit his presence in the house when he wasn’t there to only a few places – he feared a bath robe hung neatly next to a bathroom door might be tiptoeing too close to a boundary, but a blanket strewn across a chair in the attic was unassuming enough. That is, until he and Macy had started to become closer. 

At first it had just been practical. It made sense for him to leave a change of clothes in her room when he stayed with her so he didn’t have to orb when he was still groggy from sleep – or worse to have to walk to the attic and risk bumping into her sisters, who had been supportive of his and Macy’s relationship yet whom he was not prepared for to see him in that state with their knowing glances turned towards their sister’s room. Then, a few pairs of his socks could be found nestled up to her own in her drawers. His deodorant next to the bottles of perfume on her vanity. It was only when Harry realised that, no matter who was in charge of sorting the laundry that week, his clothes would be neatly folded and placed on top of hers to be taken to the master bedroom that he truly grasped that what was once her room was now theirs.

Now, his bath robe hung on the back of their bedroom door.

But this spot had remained one of his favourites in the manor. 

He had spent many nights on which sleep evaded him here, with one leg crossed over the other and a book or newspaper cradled in his hands and a cup of tea steaming steadily by his side. His ears would perk up at any sound, ready to spring into action at any indication of danger to his charges, but usually the Things That Go Bump In The Night were a sleepy Maggie colliding with her doorframe on the way to the bathroom or a hungry Mel sneaking down the stairs, resting her weight too heavily on a creaky step. But he was thankful that it was not one of the Veras that came to be stood in front of him last night. 

* * *

_A tentative pad of bare feet pressing slowly from the ball to the toes first alerted him to her presence, and he immediately recognised the footsteps as hers._

_“Macy,” he smiled, looking up from his paper._

_“Harry,” she yawned._

_One of Harry’s training vests hung loosely from her shoulders. He may have only been an inch or so taller than her, but the broadness of his shoulders meant his clothes appeared much bigger on her. Thick straps drooped and left her sides partially exposed, and the black material skimmed low on her chest but fell across her mid thighs resting on her grey sweatpants. ___

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_He didn’t know when she started wearing his clothes to sleep exactly, but all he knew is he would pluck an item from their shared laundry pile, wear it once, and the next day it would vanish from wherever he left it. And he had never considered a woman’s shoulders to be kissable before but, as the strap of his top slid down her bicep, he got lost in the memory of how it felt to run his teeth over the flesh of her shoulder as he slowly, so slowly, kissed and nibbled down to her chest._

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_Then he saw her face._

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_She swiped her knuckles over her eyes, watery and distant from sleep but still trained on him and something came undone inside him, being the object of her attention._

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_He cleared his throat and folded his newspaper, placing it on the arm of the chair._

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_“What are you doing up, sweetheart?”_

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_“I woke up and you weren’t there.”_

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_His heart could have broken right there and then at the vulnerability in her voice, still croaky from her slumber._

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_Although Macy had gotten better at opening up recently, and letting him into her head, it was all a process. He wasn’t sure whether sometimes she just forgot that she didn’t need to be so guarded to protect herself anymore - that there were people who loved her and wanted to listen, or even that he loved her and they weren’t in the business of talking without ever saying really anything in order to preserve their own egos anymore – or whether it was a genuine reluctance to share her feelings, but they were working through it together._

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_That wasn’t to say that he didn’t have his own moments of being a little too reserved; he had found that she was often having to remind him that his own feelings were important too. Years of serving witches and making it his priority to put everyone else before himself, sometimes neglecting his own needs to do so, had left him falling into that unhealthy pattern without even being fully conscious of it._

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_The Vera-Vaughn sisters had surprised him from the start with their acceptance, and the way they continuously welcomed him into their family and treated him no differently due to his station was more than he ever could have asked for. But Macy’s care in their private moments was something that felt entirely new to him._

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_As often as he curled his larger body around hers, shielding her from the outside world, he would periodically wake up to find her face buried in his back and her arms securely around his waist; it was on those nights that he would carefully pull her fingers until they were all free from the fists she had clenched them into. He would feel her squeeze his hand when she sensed he was unsure in public and listen to him spiral when they were alone, only interrupting to talk him down. Her favourite thing to do though, was to tenderly take his face into her hands and run her fingers over his rough stubble or to play with his short hair, paying special attention to the smattering of grey she (not so secretly) loved._

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_So, although it was a process for both of them, he didn't regret a moment of it._

_Of course, he always found a way to return the favour, ever a gentleman, and he realised that was what she needed in this moment._

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_“I couldn’t get to sleep. I didn’t mean to worry you, but you looked so peaceful…” he told her._

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_She shifted her weight, pushing her hip to the side._

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_“Oh. I…you didn’t have to come down here, I wouldn’t have minded.”_

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_“I just didn’t want to wake you. I know it’s hard for you to catch up on sleep sometimes.”_

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_“Yeah, I guess…”_

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_Harry raised his eyebrows encouragingly at the hesitation in her voice. As she registered the familiar expression her shoulders slumped, and she relaxed._

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_“But…I sleep better with you there,” she admitted._

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_The soft admission made him all too aware of the distance between them._

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_“Come here.”_

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_He opened his arms to her, as he had done many times before for a comforting hug or to hold her closely (primarily for safety purposes, of course) as he orbed her out of harm’s way, but this time instead of remaining on her own two feet in the embrace, she climbed onto his lap and settled against his body with her head tucked under his chin. He pulled her closer._

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_“Thank you,” she breathed._

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_He smiled softly._

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_“What are we reading?” she asked quietly._

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_“Hmm?”_

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_“Your newspaper. What are we reading?”_

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_He chuckled and picked it up again to show her._

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_“A very interesting article about how climate change effects the size and wingspan of migratory birds, actually,” he told her._

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_“Mmm, talk dirty to me,” she joked._

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_Her low tone made Harry curl his tongue against his bottom lip._

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_“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbled into her hair._

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* * *

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His endeavour to turn the page of his paper was interrupted by her low groan and wiggling. At first he couldn’t tell if she was simply trying to change position in her sleep, but when her eyelids twitched he realised she was waking up.

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“Good morning, Macy” he smiled.

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She peered up at him. 

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“I was reading that,” she yawned, snuggling into him further.

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“I’m sure you were, dear.”

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“What time is it?” 

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“10am.”

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“What? Did I really sleep for that long?”

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“You did,” he answered, “did you sleep well?”

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“Yeah, really well actually,” she paused for a moment, “your lap is comfortable.”

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“Happy to be of service,” Harry laughed.

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Macy grinned up at him, happiness rising in her chest.

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Before she could come up with a witty reply, she heard someone walking around in the kitchen.

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“Do I even want to know?” Mel’s voice called to them. 

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“Probably not,” Macy teased.

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“I can’t imagine why,” Harry spoke at the same time.

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Mel’s back was still turned to them as she walked to the fridge and pulled out the milk. 

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“Gross,” she responded.

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“Ah, yes, well, on that matter, I should probably go and wash up,” Harry said.

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He looked at Macy expectantly and she stared back at him, content to remain wrapped up in him. 

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“Er, Macy…”

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“What?” 

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“You’re still…” he looked down purposefully at her legs thrown across his.

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“Oh, right…oh! Right! Sorry, baby.” 

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She scrambled up off his lap reluctantly, allowing him to stand. Macy felt a little guilty as she watched him push back his shoulders and stretch out his muscles, hoping that the cost of her deep sleep wasn’t his muscles being sore for the next couple of days. 

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He caught her looking and, as he bent down to kiss her, he whispered gruffly.

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“Don’t worry about me, I’m just getting old.”

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She shook her head and smiled as she accepted the press of his lips against hers.

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Harry walked out of the room and up the stairs as Macy flitted her gaze between his retreating figure and the ground, smiling to herself almost smugly. 

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“So things are going well between you two then?” Mel asked from across the room, facing her now. The time witch looked her sister up and down, taking in her choice of pyjamas, but didn’t say anything (though Macy knew it was on the tip of her tongue).

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Macy nodded shyly. She strolled over to the kitchen area where Mel had poured her milk into a bowl on the counter had and dumped a spoon inside. 

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“Huh, that would explain the impromptu sleepover downstairs,” Mel said.

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“Sorry about that" Macy replied, having the decency to at least try to look bashful, “but, er, I think I should be the one asking questions here.”

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“What?”

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Macy pointed to the bowl of milk on the surface between them.

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“Just milk? No cereal?”

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“It turns out we don’t own any cereal,” Mel grimly informed her sister.

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“That’s ridiculous. Everyone owns cereal,” Macy replied.

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“Not us.”

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“Not us?”

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“Nope.”

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“How do we not have any cereal?”

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“Because your boyfriend has ruined this household.”

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“Come on,” Macy laughed, “that’s not fair.”

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“Hey, before he showed up, I was quite content to fill up on Cheerios in the morning. Now we’re so used to him cooking breakfast we don’t even have cereal here,” Mel argued with a tiny smirk.

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“I think you might be being just a tad dramatic,” Macy told her, amusement clear in her voice.

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“Maybe so, but my point stands – there is no cereal. And hey, if you two hadn’t been getting cosy over there…”

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“Rude!” Macy cried, mock offended. 

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She wandered over to the fruit bowl and plucked up a peach. The older witch tossed it to her sister who flinched back as she cupped her hands in the air to avoid a mess and barely caught the delicate fruit.

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“There, see,” Macy nodded at the peach in Mel’s hands, “breakfast!” 

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Mel looked sceptical but simply hummed and bit into the peach anyway. The two sisters stood there for a few moments, Mel mindlessly chewing her ‘breakfast’ and Macy leaning against the counter and tapping her fingers. 

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“I am happy for you,” Mel broke their silence.

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“What?” Macy looked at her.

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“You and him. I haven’t seen either of you as happy as you are when you’re together,” Mel told her.

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“Oh,” Macy said softly, “thank you.”

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“It’s no problem, really,” Mel assured her, though the hesitation in her smile told Macy there was something bothering her.

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Macy let a few more moments of silence pass between them, unsure of what she was supposed to say. They had both been all too aware of what was not being said between them for a long time now, to the extent that it had stretched into a warped sense of normalcy and, as twisted as she knew that it was, Macy wasn't sure if she wanted to test the limits of their civility by bringing up their issues and trying to give her sister unwarranted apologies. But she was also sick of feeling herself shut down around Mel; even now the urge to offer up a placating smile and run away was growing stronger and stronger, boiling under her skin, She knew that Mel could see it too. Perhaps Mel's own instincts were kicking in too, telling her to avoid the conflict, and that's why her eyes were cast downwards. This had to stop.

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“Mel? Is everything alright? I mean, are we alright?”

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“What do you mean?” Mel asked, though the high pitch of her voice betrayed the fact that she did, in fact, have an idea of what her sister was referring to.

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“I…we never discussed what happened." 

Mel opened her mouth but only managed a nod. 

"Listen...when I was the Source…I know what I did was wrong.”

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Mel sucked in a breath.

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“Well, yeah…” 

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Mel tossed the stone from her peach in the bin and took seat at the dining room table and Macy took her lead, sitting across from her. 

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“It doesn’t exactly feel great when your sister casts you out of your family and sends you to Seattle of all places,” Mel continued, trying for a light-hearted tone. Despite her efforts, the hurt leaked through into her words.

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“I know. You didn’t deserve that. None of you deserved what I did to you. I was being selfish and stupid, so stupid. I was blinded by so much pain and anger, but that’s not an excuse. I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you here with us. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

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“I know why you did it. I get it. I can’t entirely judge you for it, but I won’t lie and say it didn’t sting either. I know we weren’t the closest as sisters then but we’re still family. Family doesn’t do that to each other.”

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Macy swallowed.

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“I am so sorry, Mel. None of it was your fault. I should have never taken it out on you.”

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“No, you shouldn’t have. But why me, Mace? You could have just as easily done the same to Maggie, but you chose me…”

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“I- I don’t know.”

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“I think you do. And I’m sorry too.”

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“W-what? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

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“If I’m going to preach about family, I might as well admit that I wasn’t always the perfect sister either.”

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“It’s okay, Mel. You don’t have to.”

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“Macy, you have to understand. After mum died it was hard to keep it together - I know that Maggie thinks I was being defensive, but I didn’t know how else to deal with losing her. She was my best friend. Before that day I had never imagined a world without her in it. So, when you showed up, I wasn’t ready to accept another person into our family. Maggie and I were barely making it on our own.”

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Macy nodded sadly.

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“Having to live without her seemed so unfair that giving my love to someone new, even someone who shared blood with us, was too much. My best friend was gone, and it turned out I didn’t really know anything about her life before us, no matter how close we were. And I felt like you were living proof of that.”

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Macy felt her heart sink.

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“But that wasn’t right either. You’re not some dirty secret in mum’s closet, Mace. You’re my sister. And I love you. And I wish you felt like you could talk to me,” Mel finished.

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“I love you too,” Macy whispered, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

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“So, no more hiding demons, metaphorical or otherwise, from each other, yeah?”

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“Good call.”

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The sisters smiled, almost shyly, at each other both relieved to be able to be fully open with the other finally. A clean slate. Well, maybe not entirely, neither of them wanted to forget what happened and the lessons they learned in growing to take care of each other. More like a second chance at being good sisters. That suited them both.

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Mel held a finger up.

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“But I still don’t want any gross details about Harry,” she joked.

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Macy snorted.

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“So, you probably don’t want to know about how kissable his-“

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“Oh my god, no!”

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Macy threw her head back laughing.

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"Or how much he loves it when I-"

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Mel clamped her hands over ears.

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"Macy!"

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“Come on, Mel," Macy giggled, "do you really think I'm the type to kiss and tell? But fine, I promise no gross details.”

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“Ugh, thank you very much," Mel cringed dramatically.

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That only made Macy laugh harder as Mel looked on amused.

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"Should we, like, hug?” Mel asked, her eyes misty from relief and mirth despite her pride.

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“Yeah, I think we should,” Macy laughed.

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The two women stood up, leaned in and locked their arms around each other. It could have felt forced following their emotional conversation, but the honesty behind their words had them both seeking reassurance from the other. For the first time, it didn’t feel like there was this wall between them that neither of them wanted to discuss for fear of speaking it into existence. It felt good. It felt like what their mother intended when she said they were better together. It felt like maybe everything was going to be okay now.

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“What did I miss?” Maggie’s confused voice asked from behind Macy’s back.

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“Never mind, get in here,” Mel smiled.

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Maggie, always up for a group hug and happy to see her sisters getting along, complied and found herself enveloped by her older sisters’ embrace.

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* * *

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Macy sighed contentedly as she felt Harry’s arms slide around her waist. His breath was warm on her neck as he brushed his lips over the skin just below her ear and his chest was still bare and slightly damp from his shower, radiating heat against her back. She tipped back her head, enjoying the feeling of him pressed up against her. 

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“Hi,” he whispered. 

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He started peppering kisses over her jaw and down her neck drinking her in. 

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“Hi,” she breathed.

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“Are you okay, love?”

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She grinned and spun around so that they were chest to chest, “you know what?”

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All it took was one small push for her whitelighter to fall back on her bed.

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“Better than ever.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Final chapter! Thank you for anyone who has made it to the end! I really appreciate it! 
> 
> I was going to post this last night but then I ended up editing even more and reading fanfics until I fell asleep oops...but it's Christmas for me now :)))


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